Show Me The Way To Go Home
by CrypticMirror
Summary: When the two most epically lost people on the planet meet up, things could end up almost anywhere. Ryouga Hibiki collides with Sub Lt. Phillips and the crew of HMS Troutbridge from the BBC's radio "The Navy Lark"; together they'll face mysterious shrubberies, homicidal cakes, and attacks of orange and black striped tropical polar bears. And maybe a Chinese Amazon or two.
1. Chapter 1

Show Me The Way To Go Home.

A Ranma/The Navy Lark x-over.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we present The Navy Lark, with our three stars Commander Murray, Sub-Lieutenant Phillips, Chief Petty Officer Pertwee, and special guest Ryouga Hibiki.

They say that any armed service is like a family, and like every family has members who they will hide behind the sofa from and pretend they aren't in. In this case the family members in question are the crew of HMS Troutbridge, a frigate who existence is owed solely to the fact that its paperwork fell behind a filing cabinet in 1948 and wasn't found again until the office was renovated sixty years later to make it into a new senior staff's bar. Deciding to put the Troutbridge to good use their Lordships at Admiralty promptly put the biggest load of troublemakers they could find on it and packed them off on a goodwill tour, reasoning that whenever Troutbridge left harbour there was bound to be a sudden upswell of goodwill.

* * *

Ryouga Hibiki was not having a good day, not that this was in any way unusual for him. Ryouga seldom had good days; being cursed to turn into a small pig at the slightest splash of cold water tended to do that to a person. Today, however, it was the fact that he hadn't managed to activate his curse that was giving him trouble, and that was unusual. According to his GPS device there should be an abundance of cold water around; he was beginning, he considered, as he slashed his way through lush jungle foliage, to think this might not be Greenland at all. The area was certainly green enough, but he was wondering if polar bears were normally orange-black striped and had long tails.

Yes, Ryouga Hibiki was utterly lost, yet again. Not that this was unusual either, but along with the feeling of being lost there was also something prickling at his danger sense, as if he was being watched. And that was seriously getting on his nerves.

"Ranma, this all your fault!", he shouted to the world.

A few of those strange penguins burst into flight at the sudden noise. They had to be penguins, Ryouga decided, you got them in Greenland he told himself, never being one to give up on an idea once it had jammed itself into his brain. He checked his GPS again to make sure, yep, Greenland. If he had turned it over he would have seen the label reading "Trick your friends, send them anywhere with Boffo Pertwee's Joke GPS kit". All in all, it was rather unfortunate that he hadn't.

Ryouga pulled off one of his bandannas and wiped his brow with it, as he forged his way through the dense arctic jungle.

"Maybe there is something to this Global Warming stuff," he muttered to himself.

Eventually the jungle petered out, and he found himself standing on a cliff top overlooking a peaceful aquamarine sea. A peaceful aquamarine sea that contained an elderly naval vessel. An elderly naval vessel that was just about to ram itself into the cliff Ryouga was standing on. Yes, this was going to be a very bad day indeed.

* * *

"Do you know sir, I think that whale I spotted earlier might be lost," the rather foppish-looking blond officer reported to the commander of the vessel.

"Oh and why is that Mister Phillips?", the vessel captain's voice was laden with weariness as he responded.

"Well, according to the sealife section on my navigation charts, the Firth of Clyde is supposed to be a haven for small whales and seals, and I haven't seen another whale for simply ages. Nor any seals, or the Faslane dockyards come to that."

The older man gave a long-suffering sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose before responding.

"Sub-lieutenant Phillips is it all possible that it isn't the whale that is lost, but us?"

"Can't be sir, I've been following my charts rigorously."

"Yeees," the commander had still to remove his hand from massaging the bridge of his nose, or to open his eyes. "Would you mind awfully just passing your "charts" back here for a bit."

"Certainly sir."

"Mister Phillips, do you think perhaps this isn't an official Royal Navy chart?" This time the voice was laden with sarcasm as well as weariness.

"Oh, it's got to be sir." The was a slight tone of hurt and petulance in Phillips' voice.

There was a long period of uncomfortable silence and the only sound was the rhythmic "clank-clank" of the decrepit engines on the equally decrepit ship.

"Really, since when then do Royal Navy charts have the title "The Observer's Big Book of Scotland"? Where on earth did you get this Mister Phillips?"

"Well, the Chief got it for me if you must know."

"Now we are getting somewhere. Chief…" The Commander turned to the third person on the bridge.

"Now I know what you are thinking Commander Murray, sir, but the original charts got sort of, well, mislaid you might say." The rather hurried explanation was given by a much older man with Chief Petty Officer insignia.

"Mislaid?" Commander Murray repeated. "That wouldn't happen to be mislaid as in stolen and sold on in shady night-time deal would it now Chief?" Murray's tone of voice made it quite clear this wasn't really a question, and CPO Pertwee squirmed a little as he considered how to answer the accusation.

"In your own time Chief."

"Oh do give him a minute, Commander," Phillips chimed in, "it isn't fair to spring a question like that on a chap."

Murray silenced him with a glare.

"Thank you very much Mister Phillips," the Chief said, "and no, I can say with a one hundred percent honest face that I did not steal those charts and flog them in any sort of shady night-time deal. Thankyou Commander Murray sir."

"I assume that means it was in daylight then."

"More sort of twilight," the chief said distractedly.

"Chief!"

"But Commander Murray, sir, what was the use of giving proper charts to Sub-Lieutenant Blond Bonce here. It isn't like he can read them."

"I say Chief, I take exception to that. In navigation school the lecturer said no ever got marks like I had before." Phillips protested hotly.

"Be that as it may Chief," Commander Murray ignored Phillips protesting, "You can't go around selling Royal Navy charts willy-nilly. How much did you get for them?"

"Tenner," Pertwee replied knowing the jig was up. "Donation to ship's benevolent fund as usual then Commander Murray sir?"

"Very well, as usual. I suppose that we should be lucky that is all you sold before we left dock."

"Yes well, we did leave a bit sharpish."

"Sir," Phillips protested, "aren't you going to put the Chief on a charge for insulting my map reading skills? It was jolly rude of him."

'Rude it might have been Mister Phillips, but to be put on a charge it has to be false as well.' Commander Murray replied flatly.

"Oh I say, well in that case I'm turning this ship around and going home. Chief, set half ahead starboard, full ahead port. And left hand down a bit Chief!"

"Commander Murray sir?" CPO Pertwee glanced back from the wheel for confirmation.

"Might as well Chief, if Mister Phillips can find his way back to Portsmouth we can start again and maybe get somewhere."

"Very good sir."

Pertwee began signalling the engine room of the ancient craft and making the required manoeuvres. While he did that Phillips had picked up the book he had been using as a chart again and started giving it a disturbingly serious look, as the ship began to shift under their feet onto a new course with the sound of the waves slapping on the hull shifting in their rythym. Never let it be said that Sub-Lieutenant Phillips was particularly willing to let go of an idea once it got jammed in his head either.

"Mister Phillips,' the commander said, snatching the book out of his hands and flinging it out the window. 'This time use the compass."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly sir," Phillips said brightly.

"And why not?"

"Well, the Chief here had it removed for maintenance."

"Chief?"

"Yessir, donation to the ship's benevolent fund it is sir!"

Murray gave yet another long-suffering sigh.

"Use the GPS then."

"Begging your pardons, Commander, Mister Phillips sirs, can't use that either. We ain't got it installed yet." This time it was the Chief who sounded rather unnecessarily cheerful. "Someone and I shan't name no names, Commander Murray sir, ordered us to put to sea before the lads from shore detachment could get it all hooked up. Said it needed special cables for a museum piece like old Troutbridge here. Can't think why we needed to leave in such a hurry, sir".

This time it was Commander Murray's turn to look a little sheepish.

"Well, my mother-in-law was threatening to make a visit and..."

Fortunately, the bridge crew were spared the embarrassing saga that was Murray's marriage by the urgent "peee-whee" of the ship's intercom.

"Starboard lookout here, Able Seaman Goldstein chatting. I just thought you ought to know, it's been a good few minutes since Mister Phillips gave us "left hand down a bit" and you might want to consider changing course. There is a damn great cliff coming up sharpish and I'm off to put me tin hat on, tatty-bye". The intercom clicked off sharply.

All three men turned to stare out the window at the view they had been distracted from, the open horizon now replaced with a jungle topped cliff. Then Pertwee spoke for all of them.

"Everybody down!"

There was the all too familiar crunch of metal grounding itself.

Somewhere above the cliffs someone or something watched as the shockwave from impact of the ship sent the young man who had been blundering around its jungle all morning tumbling forward. It was mildly surprised to see the youth crash through the metal of the ship's roof, but the surprise was quickly replaced with glee as a plan formed. It was going home, it was going to see its mother again. There were preparations to be made.

On the bridge of the now stricken vessel the three men began picking themselves up. Students of naval history would have been amazed by some of the saltier terms being used by The Chief, but since swearing was generally recognised to mean alive, well, and intending harm, Cmdr. Murray wasn't too concerned. His navigation officer on the other hand was a cause for concern, and not just out of what might happen if The Chief got hold of him. He shook the unconscious young man as hard as he could, hoping for a response.

"Not now pater, bring the butler some rhubarb," Phillips mumbled.

"Chief, get the damn ship's doctor up here now!" Murray barked.

"Ow, I think might have dislocated something that isn't dislocatable; and I can't. We don't got one," Pertwee replied as he rubbed his shoulder.

"We left port without a doctor? There was one on the crew manifest, what happened to him?"

"He got a chitty from the shore doctor excusing him from going to see on account of seasickness. There was a memo sir."

"Ah, I see. Chief you don't happen to have any smelling salts on you by any chance then?"

Before the Chief was able to answer, there was a loud groan followed by a creaking and tearing of steel as something crashed through the ceiling. The Chief and Murray both turned around to see a young Japanese man levering himself out of the person-shaped hole he'd pressed into the deckplates. They took in the similarly person-shaped hole in the ceiling above them and decided not to press the point of his arrival.

Ryouga for his part took in the naval uniforms of his impromptu hosts and their Caucasian features and wondered how he'd managed to get from Greenland to America without having had to pass through Australia first.

"Er, hi there", he said in English while rubbing the back of his head nervously, "is this America?"

Judging by the way the man with the most stripes on his sleeves eye's narrowed, and his indignant spluttering this probably the wrong question. Okay the Japanese youth thought, Caucasian but hates America.

"Francais?"

This appeared to go over less well than the suggestion of American.

"British?"

The eye's remained narrow but the spluttering decreased. The older man drew breath to give some sort of reply. Fortunately Ryouga was spared CPO Pertwee's rant on international relations (and where he could shove them) by another groan from the still semi-conscious Sub Lieutenant Phillips.

"Ooh mater, pass the doughnut, the parson needs a dinghy."

"Oh damn," Cmdr Murray said ignoring their new visitor. "Chief, those smelling salts, quickly."

"I ain't got none sir, and I've had a look in the first aid box and all we've got there is half an elastoplast, and a copy of homeopathy monthly."

"Er, pardon me," Ryouga cut in, "but I think I have something to bring him around."

"Well, do it quickly then man."

Ryouga fumbled through his travelling pack until he found what he was looking for, a small bento box tied with pink ribbon, and then wrapped in chains secured with a huge padlock.

He could feel the accusing glare of the officer and the skeptical expression of the older man burning into the back of his neck as he knelt beside the younger officer. He tried to discount them, since obviously they weren't martial artists, their movements being completely wrong, but naval officers sometimes equalled guns and guns had a horrible way of evening the playing field between martial artists and non-martial artists. In this case Ryouga needn't have worried, no one at admiralty in London was prepared to authorise actual ammunition to the crew of HMS Troutbridge in any circumstances short of outright war, and perhaps not even then.

With the care of a man handling ten tonnes of incredibly unstable nitro-glycerine Ryouga undid the ribbon and chains and, hands only slightly shaking, transferred a small amount of a wobbly green substance onto a pair of chopsticks. For a moment it looked like the green substance was tensing itself to leap but, moving fast, Ryouga jammed it into Phillip's mouth. For a moment nothing happened, but just as both Murray and The Chief opened their mouths to make a smart-aleck sarcastic remark, Phillips shot straight up onto his feet at a speed that made it look like no intervening steps had been involved and bolted for the window.

While the unfortunate sub-lieutenant was feeding the fishes, or possibly causing more ocean pollution than a dozen broken oil-pipes, Murray and Pertwee interrogated Ryouga on the contents of the bento.

"Well," Ryouga replied nervously as he wrestled with the padlock, "Akane said it was chocolate orange cake."

"Hmm, bad cook is she?" said Murray. "I know the feeling, my dear wife makes a date and walnut loaf you could use as housebricks".

Ryouga glared at him with a furious expression.

"How dare you insult Akane's cooking, it is the most delightful food in the world." Ryouga paused for a moment while a number of conflicted emotions played across his face. Denial and self-delusion are powerful things and while Ryouga would never speak ill of Akane's cooking himself, the basic honesty present in his psyche tried to break through and -in vain- face reality. For a moment nothing happened, even the insect sounds that haunted this lush tree-filled desolate arctic tundra seemed to cease. There was only the eerie rustle of leaves in the mangrove swamps (which Ryouga, and Phillips if he ever stopped throwing up, presumed must be filled with polar bears) to break the silence.

"I've just realised I don't know your names," Ryouga said somewhat stiffly.

Murray somewhat warily introduced himself and The Chief and pointed out the still sick Phillips. Ryouga nodded making a note of them.

"I'm Ryouga Hibiki, it is nice to meet you. Now," he bared his teeth displaying the fangs that were a trait of his family, "for the crime of insulting Akane's cooking, Murray, prepare to DIE!"

Ryouga prepared to leap at the three men and defend Akane's honour in his usual violent, but before he could the bento box, which had been bouncing around on the deck, burst open and the chocolate-orange cake attacked.

Ryouga valiantly managed to deflect the first five tentacles, but the sixth managed to get a grip around his head and pull itself onto his face. The teenaged martial artist suddenly found himself recreating a certain scene from Alien and flailed around the bridge trying to prise the murderous confectionery off.

While Ryouga was engaged fighting the ghastly gateaux, Phillips finally stopped throwing up and rejoined reality. Or as close as he ever got to it, at least.

"Oh, I say chaps what is going on? Who is he?" Phillips said; gesturing at Ryouga; who had by this time pinned the psychotic confectionary's centre mass down with his combat umbrella and was trying now to wrangle the tentacles.

"Welcome back Mister Phillips, your standout navigational techniques have once again produced their excellent results."

Phillips preened for a second, "Well, I do try."

"Yeah, very trying," The Chief remarked dryly, "but he means you've cocked it up again. We are aground in the unknown."

"Aaaargh, help me!" Ryouga stumbled back across the bridge, tripping a little as he encountered the impression he'd left in the deck on arrival. The cake had managed to morph two of its tentacles into little hammers and was pounding them into his skull. It probably wouldn't have made Ryouga feel any better to know that this was hurting the cake more than it was hurting him, his skull having become hardened by the various strengthening techniques over the years.

"Oh dear, erm, don't you think we should help?" Phillips asked as cake and martial artist stumbled back again. He grabbed his chart book and managed a half hearted swipe at the fighting pair as teenager and cake hurtled past; the cake having now oozed out from under Ryouga's umbrella and was now latched onto his face like the creature out of Alien.

"Which one?" Murray said, not making a move.

"I give the tentacles odds on chance of winning you know," The Chief put in, from below the chart table he was hiding under.

"Gaaarrrrgh!"

"Now don't be beastly, sir, Chief, we can't let a chap be attacked, by a...by a...a whatever."

'"A chocolate orange cake. Oh, all right Mister Phillips; Chief grab his legs. Mister Phillips try and hold him still and I'll peel the "whatever" off. Ready, go."

To the surprise of many that knew them the Troutbridge team managed to successfully tackle the stricken youth without tripping over each other in the process. With some difficulty Murray managed to get his fingertips under the edge of the sentient cake, and bracing his legs against Ryouga's chest, pulled. With a horrible sickening sucking sound the thing came loose. Not giving it a chance to react he hurled it out of the window as hard as he could. Somewhere in the jungle something shrieked and there was an explosion in the foliage.

"Thanks," Ryouga said gasping to get his breath back.

''Anytime, now are you still determined to kill me Mister Hibiki, or can we discuss this like rational human beings?"

The Chief muttered something that might have been "first time for everything", but Murray chose to ignore him.

"Uh, well," Ryouga rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I guess I got a little carried away."

In the jungle there was a howl that cut off sharply and another explosion in the undergrowth.

"Yes, quite", now it was Murray's turn to look a little embarrassed. "For reasons that I'd rather not get into," he paused to glare at Pertwee and Phillips, "we appear to be somewhat geographically dislocated. You wouldn't happen to be able to give us our present locale?"

Ryouga's eyes glazed over and he stared at Pertwee and Phillips for a hint as to what Murray had meant.

"We're lost, where are we?" Pertwee supplied.

"Oh, that," the irony of the request completely failed to register on the always lost boy, "I'm pretty sure we're in Greenland."

The three naval officers looked out at the tropical jungle.

"I knew that is where we were, and you chaps just made fun of me." Phillip's said in a hurt tone.

Pertwee and Murray stared at Phillips then at the Ryouga.

"Mister Phillips, your father was never stationed at Japan was he?" CPO Pertwee asked sarcastically.

"Funny you should say that, he did a brief stint there once, but it was ages ago. About seventeen years really, why do you ask?"

Murray shared a meaningful look with the Chief.

"Oh, no reason."

Murray contemplated his situation. They were lost, and aground, which was pretty much par for the course. Really all he could do was wait for high-tide and then try to get the ship off the rocks, then pick a direction and keep going. It usually worked. He could see by the expression on the Chief's face that he was thinking the same.

He had just opened his mouth to give the required orders when a writhing column of tentacles surged through windows.

"It's counter-attacking!" the Chief yelled, "HELP!".

"Steady there chief, use the fire-extinguisher to beat it off" Murray said kicking out at the invading tendrils.

"I don't think this is the cake," Ryouga said, nimbly back flipping out of the way. "This is some sort of vine. I can see leaves on them."

He pulled off several of his bandannas and sent them hurtling through the air like laser guided rockets. Several sections of severed vine fell to the floor. The main column recoiled and then another cluster of tendrils shot out towards him. He managed to sever a few more with another barrage of bandannas, but the main cluster had him now securely wrapped tightly and forced him to his knees.

Out of the corner of his eyes Ryouga could see the sailors were still fighting off their own attacking vines, although Phillips was wrapped up almost as tight as he was having been unable to locate a weapon in time. Murray had grabbed Ryouga's umbrella off the deck, and although surprised at the weight of it, was giving a good account of himself. The Chief was discharging blasts of ice-cold CO2 from the fire-extinguisher, with the tendrils that had attacked him withering away and blackening with each blast.

So, Ryouga thought, this is how it ends. Overpowered by a plant and out-fought by a pair of middle-aged sailors. It was a truly depressing though. The familiar weight of heavy ki began to trickly through his body. Never would he see Akane again. The trickle of heavy ki became a steady flow. Never get the chance to be free of his curse. The flow began to pulse. Never again get the chance to beat up Ranma. The pulsing, depressive ki reached its crescendo.

"The world is a cold and lonely place," he muttered.

Then with strength born out of true despair and desolation he managed to rip his arms free and the ki surged along them as he pointed them towards the central cluster of greenery just outside the window.

"SHI-SHI HOKODAN," he screamed as the sum of all his misery was delivered in one mighty blast.

There was a hideous squealing noise from the vines as the blasted plantlife reacted. Then the few vines that had survived yanked themselves backwards, up the cliff face and into the jungle. Unfortunately, those surviving vines included the ones wrapped around Mister Phillips and he was drawn away, yelling frantically, with them. Ryouga slumped down onto his knees, exhausted.

"What in Nelson's name was that?" Pertwee demanded. The fire-extinguisher dropped out of his shocked grasp and clattered loudly on the floor.

"Ki blast." There was no emotion in Ryouga's listless voice. "You just get an emotion and put all your life energy in it."

"And the trick with the hankerchiefs", Murray asked?

"Iron cloth technique, a secret of the Hibiki martial arts school."

"I see," Murray said gently. "Chief, quick word." He gestured over the head of the kneeling Ryouga indicating he'd like to speak to Pertwee in private. They both stepped to the far side of the bridge.

"Did you ever see anything like that before Chief?" He asked in a frantic, conspiratorial, whisper.

Pertwee glanced over at the kneeling boy, then at the window where the surging greenery had withdrawn and leant in closer to Murray.

"What, the vicious, violent, vine of doom or his throwing green fire from his hands?"

'Either?'

"Well, I 'ad 'eard rumours of suchlike. That them weird walking the earth mysterious types could do that. You 'ear a lot of them type of things when you've shipped out as many times as I 'ave." Pertwee said, waggling his hands in what he thought was a spooky fashion.

Murray nodded slowly.

"So did you hear about how to deal with them? And stop waving your hands like that, Chief, it looks like you are directing traffic," Murray paused, "and badly at that."

"Yes, you just pretend like it never 'appened and get on with things as normal. And never write nothing in the log." Pertwee nodded sagely at this last part.

'That's probably a good idea,' Ryouga said having clambered back to his feet and was now flexing his arm muscles as their ki flows returned to normal. "People never seem to believe it unless they see it for themselves".

There was a long moment of quiet as Pertwee and Murray struggled to find something to say. The silence was broken when the urgent whistle of the ship's intercom sounded again. Still a little stunned from everything that had occurred no one moved. Then it whistled for a second time.

Breaking out of his stupor Murray yanked the offending tube out of its holder.

"Bridge here".

'Ah, was wondering if you were going to pick up, starboard lookout here Able Seaman Goldstein chatting.'

"Goldstein, I think I am actually pleased to hear you." Murray said, the Welshman's peevish voice being a welcome return to normalcy.

"Oh, lovely that is. I phone up to check you're okay and I get an insult. I just thought you ought to know that shrubbery what pounced on us is absconding with Mister Phillips and he doesn't look happy about it. Now if you'll excuse me I've got to go help Seaman Johnson out. Those vines tried to drag him out of the galley, but he got stuck in the porthole. Tatty-bye."

The intercom shut off. Leaving Murray standing open mouthed,

"Did you hear that Chief?"

"Yes I did sir, old Fatso Johnson is stuck halfway out a porthole." The Chief gave a little chuckle, "I wonder if it is top half or bottom half?"

"No Chief, about Mister Phillips, that... That thing has him." Murray grabbed his cap off the deck where it had been knocked off after the fight and jammed it on his head. "Chief we have to do something."

"I quite agree sir. I quite agree, you just give the order". With two swift steps Pertwee was at the ship's wheel. "So, full a'stern both it is and we might make it off out of here before it brings 'im back."

Ryouga felt his mouth drop open at the man's words, and was gratified to see that Murray also look angry at the Chief's response. Ryouga grabbed to older man's wrist as he reached for the telegraph pillar to pass the order to the engine room.

"How can you even think about abandoning your comrade," Ryouga demanded.

"'Ere, let go." Pertwee tried to yank his hand free, but Ryouga's grip was firm and unyielding. "You've never sailed with him, with his directions we've been to Shanghai, Southport, Sydney Harbour, Shanghai again, Vladivostok, Singapore, and bleedin' Chicago in our search for Scotland!"

"So?"

'Chicago is on a landlocked lake!'

"You mean like Hawaii?" Ryouga's voice was honest confusion

Pertwee felt his shoulders sag, there was no way the Japanese youth could be serious. Yet one look at the honest, slightly confused expression on his face told him he actually was.

"Two of them," he muttered, "there is perishing two of them."

"Standfast Chief, and thank you Mr Hibiki," Murray said. "We are going to go and get him. We can't take the chance on whatever it is just bringing him back. Let the Chief go, please Mister Hibiki."

Ryouga glared at Pertwee, but released his wrist. Pertwee in turn decided to ignore Ryouga and pretend like nothing had happened.

"Are you sure, sir?" Pertwee asked.

"Very sure Chief, apart from anything else I signed for a ship with a hundred and forty men, and I don't want my pay docked if I only bring back a hundred and thirty nine. Mister Hibiki would you care to join the Chief and myself as rescue party?"

Ryouga shot another the Chief another dirty look, then, cracking his knuckles, turned to face Murray.

"It'd be my pleasure. I'll teach whoever is out there to mess with Ryouga Hibiki, hahahahahahHAH!"

Somewhere in the jungle, something shivered.

* * *

Meanwhile in The Tendo Dojo, Nerima

"Hey Akane," Ranma said, "you seen Ryouga around lately?"

Akane paused in the middle of the kata she was performing and turned to face her fiance, "No Ranma, I haven't, why do you need him anyway?" A suspicious expression formed on her face and she crossed her arms in anger. "You better not be planning on picking on him again, you know how fragile he can be."

Ranma screwed up his eyes as he tried to picture Ryouga as "fragile"; the guy who could smash tunnels out of solid rock with his fists and had been known to rip telegraph poles out of the ground by accident, and tried to square that with "fragile". That line of thought was cut short when he noticed that Akane had moved on from folded arms to also tapping her foot.

"Eh-heh, nah it's nothing like that," he waved his arms frantically in defence, "Although I do have a new technique I've been working on that he could help me with..."

"Oh, and I can't help you with that?"

This was, Ranma belatedly recognised, one of those times he was going to get in trouble no matter what he said. Pausing for a moment's regret that with sheer amount of those times meaning he really should recognise them in advance, he opened his mouth to try and find an explanation that would make his most temperamental fiancée the least angry. And was saved by Akane herself.

"Come to think of it I haven't seen P-Chan in a while either".

Out of the frying pan and into the fire thought Ranma. Knowing his luck this would be the time Akane managed to figure out her beloved pet pig was his rival's cursed form. Having no objection in principle to Akane figuring that out, but strong objections to her specifically finding out when Ryouga wasn't around to take the punishment for the deception. What he objected to even more was that he, Ranma, was around to take the punishment for helping cover up that deception. Oh well, he thought, this wouldn't hurt nearly as much as Akane figuring it out.

"He's probably still hiding from that piece of toxic sludge you called a chocolate cake. That thing attacked people..." Yep, thought Ranma, subject changed and here comes the...

"DIE RANMA!" Akane yelled, whipping out her ki-mallet and bringing it down on his head, driving him into the floorboards. "How dare you complain about my cooking when you know Ryouga took some away in a gift-box, he knows how to appreciate it!"

Ranma was just about to wonder how his day could get worse when a giant panda charged through the dojo doors, threw a bucket of cold water over him activating his curse, which meant the black-haired boy became a red-haired girl, and slammed a hand-written sign over her head and ran off. Well, thought Ranma, that answered that question. She blearily focused on the panda-sign which read "you're on your own girl, just go with it". Akane meanwhile picked up the bucket and was examing the label on it.

"Ranma, what does "Acme Thirty Day Curse Locking Liquid" mean?"

Before Ranma could muster the strength to get angry she heard the sound of a conversation drifting through the hole in the doors left by the panda.

"Oh Soun it is so good of you to let me stay here for the next month while my house is redecorated".

"It's our pleasure Nodoka, you may stay here as long as you need". Soun's voice was rather louder than strictly necessary, as people trying to warn someone in another room's voices tended to be.

"Thank you, is my manly son around?" Nodoka winced a little at the volume of his reply, the Tendo family did have a tendency to be so very loud when she visited.

"No, I'm afraid not he is out training so that he will be manly enough to ensure he doesn't need to commit seppuku for that oath you hold him too. Ranko is out in the dojo with Akane though," Soun said.

"Oh good, I met a nice German boy that would be the perfect fiancé for her, I hope you don't mind that I've invited him to dinner".

Ranma groaned and cradled her head. At least she knew wherever Ryouga was he couldn't be having a worse time.

* * *

"SHOOT IT, SHOOT IT!" Ryouga screamed as one of the orange and black-striped polar bears tried to fit his head in its mouth.

"With what," Murray replied, "we don't have any guns!" He looked around frantically for a rock to at least hurl.

"What sort of soldier doesn't carry guns," Ryouga fired back, trying to find a grip on the tiger's head where he could bring his strength to bear on it. The problem was that he needed both hands to keep the animal's powerful jaws from clamping down on his head, and that somewhat limited his options until he could brace his legs on something.

"We're not soldiers," came Pertwee's voice from up a tree. Pertwee had scrambled up one with the speed of a grandmaster in martial arts cowarding; if Ryouga hadn't been so busy literally saving his own neck then he'd have strongly considered asking the man if he knew a certain Genma Saotome at all. "We," Pertwee said, "are sailors."

"Well what kind of sailor doesn't carry a gun, then," Ryouga snapped back at him?

Pertwee didn't bother to reply to that, but did manage to contribute to the struggle by throwing his shoes straight at the tiger perched on Ryouga's backpack's head. This didn't really achieve much in the way of a distraction, but the momentary flicker of attention as the beast glared at the older man in a way that promised that it was willing to add well aged flesh to its menu was enough that it allowed Ryouga to shift his hands just enough to flip the creature forward.

Now the tiger was facing him directly instead of being perched on his backpack. This, all things considered, was not actually an improvement, Ryouga realised. The beast's jaws were still wrapped just slightly over a tooth's length from his head, but now its forelimbs could rest on his shoulders and its powerful hindlegs could push against the ground. This definitely was not an improvement at all.

The beast extended its claws and prepared to bring its full animal might to bear. Suddenly it found itself pushing against thin air.

Cmdr. Murray, having realised he was contributing even less to the defence of his new companion than CPO Pertwee was, had rushed in to try and distract the big cat. He hadn't really thought that he could achieve much, but having seen that even the flicker of attention created by Pertwee's shoe throwing antics had let the young man move the creature, he'd had the bright idea of splashing it square in the eyes with his water canteen. A plan that would have worked if a freak gust of wind had not blown the water square into Ryouga's face instead; causing him to vanish.

The tiger's weight fell on the pile of clothes and kit where Ryouga had been standing. It prodded at the pile curiously, then turned its attention to its one remaining target.

''Here, Commander Murray, sir,' Pertwee yelled, 'up this tree quick!'

Murray tensed, and so did the tiger. Then the leaves to the side of the track exploded in fury and hate; Akane's cake had returned. With a vengeance! The infuriated sentient baked goods latched onto the tiger's face, striking at it with its hammer shaped front limbs until the tiger fled down the path and into the jungle trying to shake its attacker loose.

"Well," said Pertwee in an egregiously casual voice, "there is something you don't see every day. I wonder where he's gone?"

While Pertwee searched for his shoes, Murray was poking at the pile of kit and clothing left behind when Ryouga had vanished. "You know," he said, "I think there is something moving in here".

"Probably an unexploded mars bar," Pertwee said darkly; while fiddling with his shoelaces. "You sure you want to go prodding and poking sire?".

"No, there is definitely something moving here."

As if to prove him right, and with an indignant sounding "bwee!" of irritation, a small black piglet was extricating itself from the pile. It looked around a couple of times for the attacking tiger, and then, seeing the coast was all clear, it clambered onto the abandoned backpack, extricated a small spirit stove, lit it, and to the ever increasing astonishment of the two naval officers, balanced a portable kettle on it.

Fascinated by what was happening, the two men just stared while the kettle came to the boil. Their curiosity interrupted only by the sound of Pertwee surreptitiously searching his pockets for a couple of teabags in prospect of a cuppa of some sort. As soon as it did the piglet gave it what looked like all the world to be a short karate chop, sending it spinning through the air and emptying the boiling load all over itself.

There was a small boomf of displaced air as the piglet suddenly morphed into a very naked Ryouga Hibiki. A naked and angry, Ryouga.

"Gah," he said grabbing hold of Murray's collar, "why did you have to go and do that!? Wasn't it enough that it was eating me, you had to go and make a pork dinner out of me too!" Ryouga shifted his stance, one hand on Murray's collar and the other clenching in the air in dramatic anguish, "a martial artist should at least be given a chance to die as himself, and not as a cursed pig!"

"And a Naval h'officer ought to be able to go to his with an uncrumpled uniform," Pertwee cut in, "so why don't you put Mister Murray down and go put your drawers back on and you can explain what just happened 'ere".

Ryouga glanced down and eeped a little as his brain caught up with his naked condition. There was another boomf of imploding air as he moved so quickly he was just a flesh coloured blur, grabbing his pack as dashed behind the tree that Pertwee had taken shelter in.

"Thank you, Chief," Cmdr Murray said, scrambling up from the ground where Ryouga had dropped him.

"Don't thank me yet, sir," Pertwee said while still patting his pockets, "I ain't got a single teabag on me, sir. Getting to be a dangerously dry day, sir."

Murray just glared at him, and then continued with his previous chain of thought, "I do think that explanations, while very much needed," he said, calling back over his shoulder to Ryouga's tree, as he made a show of straightening his uniform and brushing it down, "must wait. Those vines already have enough of a headstart on us and we don't want to lose the trail completely. Goodness only knows what horrible fate Sub-Lieutenant Phillips might be suffering already at their hands."

* * *

Phillips' legs dangled high in the air, wrapped tight in the coils of the vines. They'd dragged him back through the jungle, and now he hung in some half-darkened cave; the only light an ominous glowing red which came from another chamber, accompanied only by a horrible glooping noise.

"Oh-ho-oh", a sinister laugh peeled, "so my pretty is finally awake."

A figure moved in the darkness, female, and seemingly also suspended in vines. This figure was able to control the vines which suspended her and, from the way the vines suspending Sub-Lieutenant Phillips started stroking his face, able to control all the greenery in the cavern.

"Er, hello?" Phillips said. "I say, I'm jolly grateful to be called pretty but I think I'd like to go home now. It's been a rather long day."

"Oh-ho-ho", the figure laughed again, "I am so very glad, because home is where you are going to take me." She moved closer, almost gliding through the air, until Phillips could almost kiss her. Her breath was sweet and floral against his face. Phillips swallowed nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing noticeably.

"So," he paused, and half-nervously half-bewildered, replied; "you want to split a cab?"

There was an awkward pause, the silence broken only by the burbling sound from the other chamber. The ominous glow rippled in time with the noise, and the female figure screwed up her face in irritation. That, at least, was something Phillips understood. He was very familiar with the expression on female impatience, if he had been a Nerima Martial Artist then he would have been bracing for the hammer blow and short ride to LEO. Fortunately for him, the female figure merely puffed in irritation, blowing a lock of her green hair up out of her eyes. If he hadn't been lashed up in vines then Phillips would probably have thought her rather fetching.

"Yes," she said almost biting back her words, "split a cab indeed. Or should I say, a battleship." She paused for a moment. "Oh-ho-ho," she laughed again almost as an afterthought, and started gliding backwards.

Sadly, what ought to have been a dramatic line for her to end the conversation on was undercut by the undeniable fact that she was talking with a total twit.

"Oh, you have a battleship," said Phillips brightly. "That is jolly good. We've only got a rusty old frigate. Can we hitch a ride with you then? My friends will be here soon, I expect. They usually do show up pretty soon after any kidnapping. I say, I don't even know your name to introduce you to them." His voice trailed off as he saw the expression of irritation had moved to exasperation, with a side order of teeth grinding.

"I have no name," she hissed through her clenched jaw, "and as for your friends; I'm counting on it. For you, my dear little boy, I have plans before they arrive. You will serve me!"

Phillips struggled in his vines valiantly, but he was held fast. The female figure made one sharp gesture and the vines yanked him through the air and into the glowing maw of the other cave. He saw lava…

* * *

On an entirely different part of the planet, while Nodoka was having an early evening meal in Japan and negotiating a month long vacation at the Tendo residence while her own house was repainted; she wanted it to look nice for when her beloved husband and manly son returned, all the while arranging for "Ranko" to start an engagement to a young German Olympic Archery competitor; in England the board of the Admiralty were having a meeting.

Through marbled halls and rooms walled with oak taken from ships that had fought at Trafalgar; past busts and portraits of the great sailors of the past, down checker tiled passages, and under the great picture of Nelson himself; the voices of the current great and the good of British high seas echoed.

"… And I said "that is as maybe young man, but you've still got your car on my wife's foot"."

"The thing is that we're overdrawn on the scones and jam budgets already."

"The thin, the thin, the thing-a ring-diddly-ding, the t-thin…"

"I know nobody listens to an old man like me, but I'll have hanged them for this. The glass isn't half empty or half full, it is all the way empty and I want to know what you are going to do about it!?"

"Oh, shall I pass the port old bean?"

"Better make it the starboard too".

"I say can we get on? I do have rather a lot to do. There are these theft reports."

"The thing-a-ling- thing is I found these ch-char-char-charter, charter, charter, charter, CHART! These charts for sale in the high street."

"I say shall we put cream cheese on it?"

"What, my wife's foot?"

"Now this glass is empty again, I don't know how it keeps happening."

"Look, about these theft reports.."

"No, old boy, not your wife's foot. The scone budget, shall we try and get cream cheese on it when we get it approved."

"Will somebody PLEASE look at these theft reports!"

And so on and so on the hubbub bubbed. Eventually there was a great clearing of throat, as the current chair of committees, Admiral Ffont-Bittocks, lost patience with waiting for the meeting to come to order on its own.

"Right, that is it you chaps," he intoned in the bluff tones of a man who long ago lost interest in giving a damn about other people's opinions.

This did not have the effect he intended, as the hubbub continued to hub and bub around him. Words like "cream cheese", "empty again", and the rapid fire stuttering as Commodore Weatherly rattled towards the end of a sentence, utterly failed to cease. Ffont-Bittocks' patience, never exactly being overly long in the first place, reached its end and he slammed his hand down on the table (causing an interesting ripple effect in the ancient oak that would have impressed any elder in the tribe of Chinese Amazons) and bellowed:

"BELT UP, or I'll lock up the gin," he finished in a more normal voice.

Silence unrolled in the boardroom.

"Yes," he said, "I thought that would get your attention. Never fails. Right," he said leaning back in his chair, "first things first. Povey, where are Troutbridge and me son in law on that goodwill tour. Me wife has been wanting to go a holiday and she says she isn't going until he comes back and can carry her bags."

Commodore Povey, who had been the voice trying to raise the issue of theft reports and was now caught flat footed by the change of topic, sputtered a little before managing a weak and feeble, "Oh terribly well sir, they've just been to Sri Lanka. Lots of goodwill now they've shipped off to Port Arthur. Last I heard anyway."

"Now I know you all think I'm a feeble old man and have no right to be here at all," broke in the creaky voice which had been demanding to know why his glass kept getting emptied, "but I happen to think you are WRONG, you know, and I want to know where this Sri Lanka place is, never heard of it."

There was a pause as everybody tried to fit their head around that. And a chink of glass on glass as the gin decanter was decanted into the speaker's glass.

"I think, Vice Admiral Prout," the voice who had been going on about scones and cream cheese, "that Povey means Ceylon. That is the new-fangled name for it. Least it was when pater joined up."

"Oh," Prout said while knocking back his glass of gin in one go, "I thought Ceylon was the new fangled name. Dutch East Indies, isn't it."

There was another stare from all those present.

"Forty five years of navy rum," Ffont-Bittocks said to the world at large, "gives you a liver you could soul and heel army boots with; and the brain functions of the boot, to boot. Carry on Povey," Ffont-Bittocks gestured towards him as Prout returned his focus to the decanters.

"Yes, sorry sir. Last we heard Troutbridge was steaming towards Port Arthur, according to the damage receipts and salvage requests we keep getting in anyway. Making good time too, at least if we take the word of that fishing fleet whose crews the Americans rescued." Povey paused as his ears caught up with the sound of his own voice, winced, and then made an attempt to strike out to sanity, "Must we keep them in the Service, sir? Really?".

"Absolutely Povey," Ffont-Bittocks said firmly, "young Phillips father is the First Sea Lord and was the one who was supposed to file the paperwork on the Troutbridge back when he was a Sub-Lieutenant himself. Got to find something for it, and young Phillips, t'do. Can't have First Sea Lords admitting to mistakes, what."

Ffont-Bittocks may have been a somewhat tactless man and certainly not the most easygoing officer in the senior service, but he was not a man who was deliberately cruel and as he looked at Povey's deflated expression he softened a little.

"Look, Povey, just go ask the bright boys at GCHQ to have one of those spy satellites check on them. See if you can arrange a pilot vessel to meet them and take them to old Arthur once you find them. As long as they don't manage to crash into China and start a real international incident we'll be fine."

As Povey shoved back his chair to leave, there was a great cracking and tinkling sound which echoed around the board room.

"Oh, I say. My cup just broke in half."

"Odd, so did mine".

"I know you all think I'm just a silly old man, but so did my glass. I'll have to drink straight from the bottle instead",

Povey froze. Then panicked; he may have been the (somewhat selfstyled) sensible voice in the conversation, but he was still a sailor at heart and had a sailor's superstitions carved deep in his soul.

"An omen, that is what it is. I just know it, it is them. Somehow they've done it!"

As the meeting degenerated into various arguing at cross purposes on the best way to calm Povey down, outside the boardroom Povey's aide, Wren Chasen, stopped listening at the keyhole, sighed, and went to place a call to GCHQ for them to start looking for Troutbridge somewhere on the Chinese coast.

* * *

Murray and Pertwee slogged along the jungle trail, their progress slowed only by having to grab onto Ryouga and keep him on the track and not wandering off into the jungle. Coming to a fork in the trail, they paused and took stock of the signs. Specifically, the wooden sign which on which was painted "This way to the rescue. Shortcut to secret base!" and was carved into the shape of a pointing finger.

"You know," said Murray in a tone of voice which he hoped indicated he was pondering some deeper truth, "I get the feeling we might be being steered along somewhat."

"Yessir," said Pertwee, "but Pertwee don't like who is doing the steering, especially when Sub-lieutenant Blond Bonce is involved. Nor greenery neither," Pertwee continued, narrowing his eyes and glaring at what appeared to be a vine tendril hastily dragging a tin of white paint off into the surrounding shrubbery. "You can call old Chief Petty Officer Pertwee, Chief Petty Officer Suspicious if you like, but I don't like it." Pertwee crossed his arms in an obstinate pose. "Sir," he added almost as an afterthought.

Ryouga, who had been eyeing the surrounding jungle in case any more tropical polar bears attacked, shot Pertwee a look. "Hah, I'd rather call you Chief Petty Officer Coward. It is obvious what we have to do. Whoever is leaving these signs clearly is seeking a duel to test your strength. I deal with it all the time. Aren't you going to rise to the challenge," Ryouga said while crossing his arms defiantly!

Pertwee, a man who knew the meaning of shame only from the dictionary, reacted to Ryouga demanding he rise to a challenge to a fight with the demand that, he Pertwee, immediately be given a transfer to the submarine service and sink away. Things would probably have deteriorated from there, with Ryouga seeking action and Pertwee demonstrating that Genma Saotome wasn't the only man in the world with a black belt in cowardly fleeing, if Cmdr Murray hadn't intervened with a question about Ryouga's experience.

"I say, young man, what do you mean you deal with this sort of thing all the time? Is this a regular occurrence?"

Ryouga stopped glowering at Pertwee for the moment, and just shrugged. "The life of a martial artist is fraught with peril. You have to test yourself against each other to keep at your best." He paused, glancing sideways at Pertwee, "That is unless you are a total coward."

"Hah, CPO Cowardly Custard reporting for duty and wanting to go 'ome; right now, too."

"Stand fast, Chief," Murray cut in to defuse things again. "I did rather mean about the mobile greenery. I must admit, that is a new one for us."

"You ain't 'alf kidding, neither," Pertwee said. ''Falling satellites, weather machines, robotic killer whales, secret Forbodian agents with ray guns, the Loch Ness Monster, and mermaids tangled in fishing nets, yes. Attack of the herbaceous borders, not so much. It is a new one for Chiefy, and Chiefy don't like it."

Ryouga elected to ignore Pertwee, although the bit about the Loch Ness Monster rang a faint bell; perhaps it had been while he was in Morocco. "Ranma mentioned something about it, one of that playboy's fiancees likes playing with plants. How he can play around with FOUR fiancees, and break darling Akane's heart like that is disgusting. If he isn't playing with Kodachi and her pets, he is scamming free food from poor Ukyou, and then the way he allows Shampoo to fawn over him. Why, I ought to…" Ryouga pounded his fist into his palm. "He has no shame!"

Murray, as a man who knew an hours long rant approaching when he saw one, decided not to pursue that subject, but instead pursue the possibility of it being a challenge of some sort for Ryouga that he and his crew had somehow gotten entangled with. He gently put his hand on Ryouga's shoulder, to steer him back to reality.

"Perhaps we should follow your signs then?' Without looking around, Murray also reached out and grabbed Pertwee's collar; feeling the older man jerk to a stop as his fleeing was brought to a quick stop. 'I said stand fast, Chief."

There was a faint tapping sound from behind the trio. As they turned around to look, they saw the vine tap the sign with a still dripping paint brush and also tap at an outsized pocket watch it had somehow conjured up.

"And we should do so quickly," Murray continued, "since our "host" appears to be rather impatient."

"Right," said Ryouga, snapping back to reality, "lets go!" And with that he grabbed Murray's hand and charged head long down the opposite fork pointed at, dragging the two sailors with him.

If it had a face or palm, then the vine would have face palmed. Instead it mere slunk back into the undergrowth with a vague sense of bemusement.

The landscape fairly flew past as Murray and Pertwee were dragged helter-skelter behind Ryouga as he pelted down a path which only he could really see. Jungle became desert, became a town square selling pretzels, became a series of cliff, and became jungle again albeit with more of a bamboo theme, all in short order, until finally the trio tumbled over a cliff onto the banks of a pool ridden swampy valley. As the two older men clambered to their feet and got their breath back, Ryouga took stock of his destination, his nose a mere centimetre away from a pool with a bamboo pole sticking out of its centre, shot upright, and then back pedalled so fast into the cliff face he just fallen down that he left almost a person shaped alcove in it. His hands cramped in terror so hard that cracks spread across the rock's surface.

"Ju—Ju—Ju…," he stuttered.

Meanwhile Murray and Pertwee had regained their feet, brushed themselves off, and were half heartedly poking at some bushes and grass on the banks in a vain attempt to work out where they were now. Pertwe, who had picked up on Ryouga's sudden gibbering in apparent terror, was surreptitiously edging back up the bank while trying to decide if a jibe about who the coward was now was a wise decision at this point; probably not, he decided, given that Ryouga was creating cracks in a granite rock.

Murray on the other hand had wandered closer to the pool edges and was gently prodding at them with edge of his shoe. Deciding on the futility of that, Murray pivoted around and decide to confer with his erstwhile compatriots on what to do next. Ryouga winced, creating ever more cracks in the cliff, as well as now digging a noticeable trough in the ground under his heals, when Murray slipped slightly on a patch of mud; almost anticipating a sudden splash and an awkward, not to mention unforgiveable stain on his honour cursing someone else as Ranma had cursed Ryouga, transformation in Jusenkyo's waters. Thankfully, Murray was only off balance for a moment and had a seaman's instincts in regaining balance on a moving surface.


	2. Chapter 2

"Gaaah, get back from the edge," Ryouga yelled! "It is cursed, do you want to be a pig?

"Wait," said Murray, "this is where you got that," he waved his hand vaguely in Ryouga's direction, "thing?".

"Yes! And you'll get one too if you don't get back. We have to find a way out before…"

Ryouga didn't get a chance to say before what, as right at that moment a deer leapt over their heads from the clifftop at a blind run. The sight of such an animal sailing majestically over their heads would have awed any wildlife cameraman or natural history director on the planet, right up until it hit the surface of one of Jusenkyo's many springs; then it was time for the horror movie director to take over.

The animal hit the water as a deer and surfaced as an ostrich, then, unable to cope with its newfound bipedalism, it stumbled into a second pool and replaced it's avian head with of a millipede, a third splash added batwings, and the fourth and final pool added a huge squirrel tail as the Jusenkyo curses stacked on top of each other. The group watched in horror as the scene played out, until finally the cursed ostrich-millipede-bat-squirrel creature vanished into the mists which always seemed to hang low over the valley.

The mood was only punctured when Pertwee once again earned his martial arts cowarding merit badge, as gave a loud "Eeep, Pertwee's up a tree. Chiefy doesn't want to be a thing," and moved so fast up the nearest (and somewhat geographically puzzling) palm tree that he was a navy coloured blur.

"Chief," said Murray sharply! "Get down from there this instant!"

"Shan't," yelled Pertwee back in reply, his voice slightly muffled by the giant frond he was hiding behind, "and you can't make me Commander Murray, sir!"

"Oh, I can and I will Chief! Get down here, or I'll shake that tree until you fall out. And who knows where you might land." Murray added a slight low drawl to is final words, hoping the threat would percolate through Pertwee's current terror locked brain.

Murray never got the chance to see if his implied threat had hit the mark or not, because Ryouga, who had been watching the exchange with his own sense of heightened terror and bewilderment grabbed Murray by his lapels and yelled in his face, "Are you insane? We should be up there too, I can't another curse!"

"'Ere, find your own tree. Pertwee's using 'is," Pertwee called down, while also attempting to twist off a handy coconut, in order to defend his commanding officer, from a safe distance, with if it came to it. And also, possibly, defend the safety of his tree.

Things would probably have degenerated from there, but it was at this point that the squabble was interrupted by a young Chinese woman with a hunting bow complete with arrow nocked, and multi-coloured hair, vaulted down the cliff face. She regarded the arguing group with a predatory gaze, saw the uniforms, made much the same choice as Ryouga had himself had earlier, and opted to use the English language as her method of conversation.

"Which one of you is deer," she said in English that was slightly broken but also infinitely better than Pertwee and Murray's Chinese would ever be, "did you fall into spring of drowned foreign sailor or spring of badly dressed Japanese clown?"

"Clown," roared Ryouga in outrage, dropping Murray and taking a step towards the young woman; his fear now forgotten in his impulse of anger. "I am a martial artist, not a clown. These are traditional travelling clothes, I'm not badly dressed!"

"You sound like deer," the woman said, "all heavy breathing and charging," then she loosed the nocked arrow at him.

Ryouga leapt into the air, whipping off a series of bandannas and sending them whirling towards the arrow, slicing it into three equal parts before it had even covered a third of the distance towards him. While still in midair he unshouldered his lead-weight combat umbrella, and had it pointed towards the woman's centre of mass; intending to slam her into the ground and break her bow. He wasn't expecting her to drop it and pull from seemingly nowhere a giant warhammer and swing it him on an interception arc.

Although the irony of the situation, that the usually groundbound, heavy hitting, Ryouga was now taking the aerial part of the battle which his foe Ranma usually took and that a woman (the form Ranma often seemed to end up in) was in his own usual tank role, was lost on Ryouga, the tactical assessment of the situation was not. He quickly shifted his position to jam his umbrella into the ground to allow him swing his legs around and slam his feet into the hammer's head and use it to force her back.

The woman was no slouch in the fighting department either though, she quickly adjusted her stance to brace herself against the ground; even so the force of Ryouga's flying kick left twin furrows in the mud as it drove her back on her heels. Quickly she ducked under his heels as his legs were at full reach, hoping to capitalise on the gap left at full extension, but Ryouga had anticipated this and was arching his back using his grip on the umbrella handle to pull around and upright in a single smooth gymnastic maneuverer.

The Rainbow Haired woman had opted to ignore any fancy technique and went straightforward full body tackle. This was a tactic that was so childishly easy to defeat that Ryouga almost laughed as he held out his hands to grab her and fully immobilise her. However she had seemed to take this into account, as he wrestled her into immobility she let out an almighty scream…

"Arrrrrgh, your hands, foul monster!"

"Whaa?" Ryouga blurted out, following her gaze down to where he had arrested her advance only to see in his instinctive block, pushing back on the centre of her mass, had caused his hands to land on her breasts. "Yearg!" He blurted out, recoiling, whipping his hands quickly above his head in surrender, and babbling red faced apologies.

Distracted, he missed the slight smirk on her face as she muttered "Too, too easy", and hit him full force in the face with both her fists. Ryouga went flying back towards the springs. He wasn't out of the fight, or ideas yet though, all the fights with Ranma had sharpened his responses to being sucker punched by women, even if they had not stopped him from getting distracted by the inevitable set ups to those punches, and he almost immediately reoriented himself in mid air, his fingertips digging into the ground and leaving long furrows as he fought for grip while at the same time arching his back and bringing his legs up above his head, eventually coming to rest mere millimetres from the water's edge, looking like a human capital C.

"Bye-bye deery," the woman said as she surged forward to deliver the final push, "hello birdy!" Her coup de grace never quite arrived because before she could deliver her finishing move a coconut bounced off her head loud "thwock". She staggered to a halt, and pivoted slowly on one heel to look back, with a glassy expression on her face to where Pertwee's head was poking up from his misplaced palm tree refuge. "Purple…" she muttered, and with that non sequitur, passed out.

"Pertwee," Ryouga roared! "How dare you interfere in another man's fight!"

"Oh sorry, I'm sure," the Chief called down. "That's thankyou very much, I gets. Next time Pertwee will let you get a dunking, right enough."

Ryouga eeped a little as how close to gaining a second curse he had came. He swiftly performed a forward gymnastic roll away from the danger, and straightened his clothes. "Uh, that is to say, uh, thanks I guess."

Before Pertwee could take umbrage at the apparent half heartedness of Ryouga's apology, Cmdr. Murray, who until this point had been watching with a sense of stunned disbelief at the swiftness of the fight, cut in with "Apology accepted, Chief. Mister Ryouga, perhaps you should tie the young lady up and we should make our getaway before we do come to grief. We must find a way to get back to searching for Mister Phillips."

Ryouga mumbled his agreement and set about binding the concussed other fighter's wrists and ankles. As he was doing so, a late arriving train of thought finally trundled into his mental station. The equation of rainbow haired woman, plus proximity to Jusenkyo, plus ki pocket weapons technique, finally equalled Chinese Amazon. His speed in knot tying accelerated rapidly. "We really need to get out of here, before…"

Ryouga never got to say before what when that before arrived. A number of other, much larger, women with equally odd hair colours, all holding large spears, jumped over the edge of the cliff. They took in the unconscious state of their compatriot, the three men, and made the obvious connection. Their leader stepped forward and demanded, in Chinese, to know which of the three had defeated the unconscious woman. Ryouga glanced at the two British naval officers, who obviously spoke Chinese as fluently as they did Japanese, and decided that while Pertwee was definitely getting on his nerves, that it would be dishonourable to sell him out like that. On the other hand, it would be equally dishonourable, not to mention that given the consequences for doing it that it would also be flat out insane, to claim credit for that little victory.

In such a situation then Ryouga would normally adopt a course of action pioneered by Genma Saotome, not to mention equally mastered by CPO Jon Pertwee, and flee for the hills hoping that they wouldn't track him down. Complicating that as a course of action, was that it would be dishonourable to abandon the two men, but that grabbing them would involve far too much dancing around on the increasingly slippery mud on the edge of the single most cursed (as far as Ryouga was concerned, at least) place on the planet and they'd all pushed their luck far too much on that front as far as he was concerned.

One course of action did suggest itself, and one that would also have been approved of by Masters Saotome and Pertwee: Fib. Fib and hope for the best.

"I, uh, I don't speak Chinese," said Ryouga, half heartedly. His deception might have been better received if he hadn't actually said that in Chinese.

"What did you say?"

"What did she say?"

Pertwee and Murray both said at the same time.

"She wants to know who knocked her friend out, but I said I didn't speak Chinese," Ryouga replied. "Admit nothing."

"Always been my policy," Pertwee said. "Keep your mouth shut, and hope nobody finds the evidence."

"We so very rarely do," muttered Murray.

The leader of the women interrupted their conversation by clearing her throat menacingly. Her whole demeanour seemed to imply that she, personally, found Ryouga's protestations of innocence about as believable as his insistence he didn't speak Chinese, but that she wasn't going to press the point so close to Jusenkyo either. She gestured for one of her compatriots to bind Ryouga's and the two men's wrists.

"We bring you to the village, let the elder settle this," she said.

Ryouga offered up his wrists for them to be tied up, he figured if he had to then he could easily bust out of any restraints.

"Help," Pertwee said from atop his tree, "they've got the handy-cuffs out, Jonsy is going to be n'arrested and he doesn't 'ave his lawyer. Tell them I got me a coconut and I'm not afraid to 'ave a shoot out."

"Standfast, Chief," Murray said reluctantly, "I think it is better to go quietly. Our young friend here seems to be quite relaxed about it." He offered up his own wrists to be bound in turn.

"I can't, it is against my religion to be going quietly, Mister Murray, sir."

"Convert."

The Chinese Amazonian leader, who genuinely did not speak English but was also genuinely out of patience, decided to take the Gordian solution to the Pertwee standoff, and merely had one of her compatriots casually rip the tree out of the ground Pertwee and all. This feat of strength gave even Ryouga brief pause for thought, and thus all three were taken prisoner that way. After scooping up their fallen, coconut felled, fellow, the men were marched off towards the Amazon village and the waiting elder. As they left one of them kicked the coconut which had felled their fellow off into the distant mists, after a few moments the sound of a faint splash drifted back; and so began the too-too sad legend of the spring of the drowned coconut.

Meanwhile, half a world away in Admiralty House, London, the appropriately calmed Povey was in his wood panelled office, poring over the vital reports which kept the Royal Navy functioning. He was just getting into the details of the jaffa cake budget, and the gooseberry wine allocations, when there was a series of short sharp raps on the door.

"Come in," he said with a hint of dread in his voice.

"Sorry to bother you, sir," said his aide Wren Chasen. "I've just got those updates from GCHQ about Troutbridge. Would you like the good news or the bad news first?" Chasen gave a little nervous smile.

"Oh no," Povey said, burying his head in his hands and massaging his forehead, "there is never any good news when it comes to Troughtbride. Don't tell me, they've somehow ran aground on Ayres Rock and sank it." Povey slumped back in his chair a little.

Chasen decided to amp up her smile from nervous but bright, to full on reassuring, Neriman martial arts full on reassuringly cheerful megawatt level, the like of which would have caused half the Royal Navy to fall at her feet. Even her slightly wavy chestnut hair, which just poked out from below her cap, managed to catch the light and radiate happiness. All of which was lost on the black hole of misery which was the beleaguered and put upon Povey.

"Well," he demanded.

Chasen decided to lead with the positive. "GCHQ has no reports or satellite interaction with Troutbridge for the last two days. By all accounts they should be cruising peacefully along as per itinerary."

This did not have the cheering news she anticipated. "And the good news," Povey demanded of her?

"I thought that was the good news, sir. No damage, no chaos, no diplomats out for blood, clearly Sub-Lt. Phillips is paying close attention to Tin-Tin in the South Pacific and not giving any of the old "left hand down a bit"." Chasen gave a little giggle at her own impression of the hapless navigator.

Povey did not share her sense of humour, as he now leant forward across his leather topped desk. "Wren Chasen," he said darkly, "you know as well as I do that when it comes to Troutbridge no news is most definitely not good news. It just means that whatever bang the are building up to will only be that much larger." He gave a small, weary, groan, and turned back to the paperwork that littered his desk; grabbing a report on the requirement for all naval divers to be familiar with all truck types. He idly pencilled in an r between the d and I, hoping that the MOD would work out that divers and drivers had very different jobs; or would eventually realise at least. "All right, if that is the good news then what is the bad?"

"Ah," said Chasen, edging towards the door with an actually nervous, nervous grin, "well you see, just before I came up," she'd managed to back up to the door, and was grasping around behind her back for the doorknob. "And I remind you, sir, that technically my duty shift is just about over," she fumbled at the knob, and quietly turned, hoping to make a swift exit. To no avail, though.

"Standfast, Wren Chasen," Povey said, "what is it you are trying to avoid?"

A big bang right here and now, thought Chasen to herself, but reply: "Well, and I remind you that I am now technically off duty, I just got a call from dockyard gates to wa… I mean, tell you that," she took a deep breath, "that your dear wife Ramona is now on base and heading up to see you." Chasen rattled the last part off in one single exhale.

"What!?" Povey stood bolt upright, "you can't be serious, Ramona neve comes on base. Not anymore, not after that incident with the Royal Marines. Did they ever get that ever get that corporal down from that flagpole, and that Major was traumatised for life afterwards. She can't be here!"

"I don't know what to say, sir…"

"POOOOOO-VEEEEEEEY!" The voice that echoed up the corridor managed to be both booming and reedy at the same time.

"Except "good luck", sir. And goodbye". And with that Chasen slipped out the door and bolted before Ramona Povey, a woman with the personality of a turbo charged and fully armoured bulldozer, arrived in person as well as voice. Behind her floated a fragment of conversation, or hectoring, at least.

"Povey, I've just had lunch with Lady Ffont-Bittocks and she wants to know when you are getting that son-in-law of hers back…".

A little later in China, in what was technically a prison cell but apart from the lack of cushions more closely resembled a front parlour belonging to an out of date and behind the times old lady, Ryouga, Murray, Pertwee, and the top of a palm tree, all sat on an overstuffed sofa. The former two were massaging the life back into their now unbound wrists. Pertwee had a vaguely terrified expression on his craggy face, although there was an edge which suggested that avarice would have him rifling thought the myriad of ornamental boxes on the mantelpiece opposite if it got the chance.

"Mister Hibiki," Murray said, standing up and stretching, "you are our current expert. Would now be a good time to consider fleeing, or should we wait to see how deep the muck is we are in?"

"Well I votes we fill our pockets and leg it over the horizon and back to the nearest British Embassy," Pertwee cut in before Ryouga could answer. "'Ere, do you think this real gold?" Pertwee was now investigating the various knick knacks on the sideboard.

"Put it back, Chief, it is probably cursed," Murray said flatly, causing Pertwee to yelp and jerk back slightly.

"Hmmph," Ryouga snorted and pounding his palm with his fist, "as much as I hate to agree with the coward over there," he jutted his chin derisively in Pertwee's general direction and the Chief stuck his tongue out in return, "we should probably go before…". And once again the before arrived before he could finish describing it, as a rhythmic pock-pock-pock on the ground signalled the arrival of a certain Amazonian elder, "that," Ryouga tailed off and quietly sat back down with his usual air of resigned dejection settling over him.

The rough wooden door clattered open to reveal a wizened old lady perched on a very tall stick, flanked by one large woman with a large sword, and a second absolutely humungous woman who carried no weapon at all but gave every impression that a sword would only have got in her way if she had to dish out violence, and behind all three was the young lady that Pertwee had beaned with the coconut; who had a sullen expression on her face.

"Well, Mister Hibiki," the elderly woman said in Chinese, "I'd say I didn't expect to see you here, but I long ago gave up being surprised by your ability to turn up and complicate matters. I don't see son-in-law anywhere, so perhaps you can introduce me to your new friends. Who obviously do not speak Chinese."

"Uh, honoured Elder, Ko-Lon" Ryouga said stand back upright and bowing, "May I introduce Commander Murray and Chief Jon Pertwee, of Britain." He paused and shifted to English, "Pertwee, Murray, this is Elder Cologne of the Chinese Amazon tribe. I'm not sure why she is here though," Ryouga tailed off while rubbing his chin in thought.

"Oh I like to come home for important tribal matters, lost boy," Cologne said in English.

"Yeah," muttered the sullen woman to her side, "tax season. Gotta make sure," she was cut off with a sharp rap on the head from the elder's cane.

"Silent, girl".

"Oh, I say," Murray said with an affronted look on his face, "she's had a head injury and you thwack her on the head? That isn't cricket."

Cologne hopped herself closer to Murray on her cane, and said: "Don't you worry, Captain White Toast, we amazons have solid skulls. Do I take it, sonny boy, with all that concern, that you are the one responsible for that injury? That you laid out young Rin-Bo here?"

"Er, what, no," Murray said, taking a step backwards, catching the edge of the sofa on the back of his calves causing him to stumble back into a seated position. In truth the whole situation rather reminded him of getting scolded by his nanny when he was a child. "I would never hit a woman, why if I did then my dear wife would take it out on my hide. And so would her mother."

"Sensible family, what a shame. It would have been nice to have a man that knew his place around…" She tailed off, shaking her head in mock sorrow. "What about you, Captain Lightfingers?" Cologne snapped at Pertwee, who had been idly and unthinkingly, out of habit, letting his fingers his fingers run across the gewgaws on the sideboard that he had leant against.

"That is Chief Petty Officer Lightfingers, missus," the Chief said with the outrage of a lifelong enlisted man mistaken for an officer, "an' I never did. I take an h'exception to that accusation. I 'ave never had a judge nor jury ever substantiate such a slander…".

"Oh, turn it up Chief," Murray chastised him from his seated position, "we don't need the whole song and dance routine."

For her part, perched on her cane, Cologne just beamed widely and gave a little chuckle. Truth be told, she admired a certain degree of theatrical bullshit in a man. "If I were a hundred years younger," she muttered in Chinese, causing Ryouga to faceplant in horror at the prospect. "And you will deny hitting young Rin-Bo with fervour too, no doubt?" Cologne returned to English.

"Upon my honour," Pertwee said placing his hand over his heart; causing Ryouga, who had only just regained his feet after picturing the wizened Cologne and the craggy faced Pertwee making out, to face plant again at the sheer boldness of the lie. Even Murray managed a very passable sweatdrop at the statement. "I never laid hand nor cricket ball on young Rainbow there," Pertwee said, mangling Rin-Bo's name whilst taking advantage in the exact words of the truth in lieu of actual honesty.

"And Mister Sense of Direction was being beaten by her," said Cologne. The elder wore an expression which suggested that she knew the exact depth of the deception being offered up to her, but was prepared to play along for now. "So that lets him off the hook."

"What has Sub-Lieutenant Phillips got to do with anything," said Pertwee out of habit.

"Chief, she means Mister Hibiki here," Murray chided. "But we must get back, and rescue Mister Phillips," Murray said to the Amazonian elder, "he could be in frightful danger, please release us and let us get on."

"Hmmm," equivocated Cologne tapping her chin, "I suppose, since nobody knows what happened," she glanced sidealomg at Pertwee with calculating gleam in her eye, "we should let you go then." Cologne's guards both gave a grunt of surprise and exchanged puzzled glances, this was not how these things were supposed to go. Even the sullen Rainbow seemed uncertain, and slowly seemed to take on a more hopeful air. "Since," the elder drawled, "nobody here wants to claim the most prized treasure of the Amazons, there is nothing else I can do."

The hope in Rin Bo's expression swiftly died. To contrast that, in Pertwee's face a light seemed to come on and if it had made a noise then it would have been ker-ching(!), at the mention of the word treasure. His fingers, which, despite threat of dire curses, had already wandered across a few of the trinkets on display and his mental calculator had already clocked up a fair amount. The temptation of greed was the Pertwee clan's greatest sin, and before either Murray or Ryouga could stop him he blurted out a confession.

"I cannot tell a lie, missus, Chiefy cannot stand here and let you think he'd mislead you, it were me that did it. I knocked out this fair flower, but I only did it because she were going to turn young Ryouga there into venison burgers. Pertwee never leaves a colleague 'igh and dry. I was only aiming for her foot thought," he finished in mitigation in case the elder was thinking of revenge.

Which, in a way, she was. "But," Cologne said, a sly smile on her face, "you said that you never laid finger or cricket ball on her, those were your exact words clever boy."

"Pertwee used his nut, Pertwee did," the Chief plunged on, ignoring both Murray and Ryouga's frantic hand gestures to stop. "Specifically, his coconut," he gestured at the top of the palm tree which was still propped up on the sofa end with three nuts still hanging on. "See, Pertwee's tree, bunch of four coconuts but missing one makes three, and one matching lump on Little Miss Rainbow's own nut." Pertwee leant back and crossed his arms triumphantly, whilst Murray quietly held his head in his hands, and Ryouga quietly entertained the thought that Genma Saotome might very well have an English cousin somewhere in the family tree.

The largest of the two women who were Cologne's bodyguards, and who had kicked the coconut into one of the springs, rumbled into into life. "Bo-Dah did find nut next Rin-Bo. Still have bruise on toe from kicking it."

"There you go, missus, thank you very much Miss Boulder. Time for Jonsy to get his treasure." Pertwee said in a smug tone of voice, while casting an avaricious eye over all the gold and gem bits and pieces on tables, mantel, and sideboards, not noticing the daggers that Rainbow was shooting him nor that Ryouga was now trying to chew on his own fist to keep silent.

"Yes, indeed," Cologne said, with a smirk on her face. "Give the man his treasure, Rainbow."

"Don't wanna," Rainbow muttered, but Boulder gave her a solid push towards Pertwee.

"Do it, girl, do not disgrace yourself further in front of the outsiders." Cologne ordered.

Sighing in resignation, Rainbow reluctantly walked over to Pertwee, grabbed his now surprised face, and, screwing her eyes closed, planted giant kiss on his lips. "Wo da, airen, wo ai ni", she said without enthusiasm.

"Bwah-ha-hah-hah-ha," Ryouga burst out, no longer able to stifle his laughter. "There is your treasure, old man!"

"'Ere, what," sputtered Pertwee.

"It is kiss of marriage," Rainbow said, taking a step back and scrubbing hard at her lips with the back of her hand. "Is backwards custom."

"Hardly," Cologne said harshly, "it is the custom which has kept the tribes of Chinese Amazons strong for a thousand generations. You," she said, directly addressing the stunned chief, "defeated a warrior, even if a wayward one, in combat and so are to be married into the tribe. To add your strength and skill to ours."

"Well that can't be legal," Murray said, standing back up from the sofa and taking a couple of swift steps over to where Pertwee was standing. "And it wasn't much of a battle, all he did was stun her with a thrown coconut to stop her dunking Mister Hibiki here," he gestured at Ryouga who was still laughing around his fist. "That's hardly a great example of strength."

"That's right," ejaculated Pertwee. "I got arm-y muscles like a pair of sparrow's knee caps, legs riddled with various veins. An' sickly," Pertwee gave an unconvincing cough, "oh, sickly, I tells you, I 'ad to bribe, bribe I tells you, a doctor to let me go to sea at all. An' even that gave me the colly-wobbles somefink chronic, it did. I'd do your tribe no good at all, so me and Commander Murray will just take laughing boy over there and be on our way, thank you very much and you're welcome."

Pertwee moved to push past Elder Cologne and get to the door. At least that was the plan, but the Elder quickly jerked her cane to trip him. Pertwee, a man who had skipped out on many a police raid seconds ahead of the law was no stranger to a baton swing to the legs to trip him, and smartly skipped over the swung cane with an instinctual speed and skill that impressed even Ryouga enough to break him out of his laughter. A swipe of the cane to the head was likewise ducked with the same familiarity of a habitual copper dodger, although Cologne was fast enough to nail his hat.

Unfortunately, the dodging availed Pertwee nought, as it just took him straight into the arms of the humungous, seven foot tall, Boulder. In truth he had intended to grab her arm and then slip under it, even if it cost him his coat to go with the hat, but the giant woman clamped onto his shoulders and lifted him bodily off the ground with a grip he wasn't able to wriggle out of.

"Not so sickly as you seem, sonny boy, and slick enough on the move too" Cologne cackled. "And it is legal enough, even the central government respects traditional tribal marriage ceremonies." She turned to Boulder, "Put him back on the sofa, Bo-Dah, I'm sure he and his bride, and their friends have much to talk about." She turned back to address Pertwee, et al, "I'll be going now, but don't worry, Bo-Dah will be just outside if you need her." And then hopping on her cane, she pogoed out.

Cologne had not added the words, or feel like running, but the subtext was so clear that even Ryouga could read it. The huge woman stomped across the room and forcefully plonked the Chief firmly on the sofa. Then almost as an afterthought, she grabbed the palm tree top that she had carried from Jusenkyo and twisted a coconut off it and bit into it. Crunching the solid nut loudly, she stomped off again.

"It is no use fighting it," Rainbow said with weary resignation, dejectedly flinging herself down one of the armchairs, "the elders take this stuff too-too seriously." She brushed an errant strand of her multicoloured hair out of her eyes. "And I wouldn't even think of trying to fight Bo-dah, she used to be an elephant."

"Ah what," Murray asked?

"You know Jusenkyo curses," said Rainbow?

"Mister Hibiki filled us in, in a way."

"Vile curses that ruin a man's life, and rob him of honour," was Ryouga's contribution to the conversation.

"Well, sometimes an animal falls into a human spring too. That is Bo-Dah, she was an elephant that escaped a circus and fell into the drowned woman spring. And just like how a human turned," she gestured at Ryouga, "a whatever, keeps their human intelligence in their other form; so does an animal turned human keep some of their old traits."

"In this case her strength, I take it," Murray said while rubbing his chin in thought. "And a splash of water won't help in that case," he paced across the room, then bent down and picked up Pertwee's knock off hat, "because going from a giant woman with inhuman strength to an angered charging elephant is not much of a trade up." He idly brushed the dust off of Pertwee's hat then handed it back to him. "But we can't just do sit around here, either."

"Got that right, no offence miss," Pertwee chimed in, gratefully taking his hat back. He jammed onto his head, not quite at his usual jaunty manner, and stood up while straightening his jacket to something approximating his usual trim. "But Jonsy here ain't the marrying kind. Leastways not right now."

"Not sure we have much choice," Rainbow said, curling her lip. "Elder Cologne went all the way to Japan to enforce her own great-granddaughter's marriage kiss. And gave her a Jusenkyo water bath when she tried to disobey. Her own blood, too. What she would do to someone from a minor family who was only the tribe's tax accountant, I don't want to find out." She slumped forward and put her head in her hands, "And at least Xian Pu got some prime beefcake for a husband, all I've got is aged mutton with a nose that almost poked my eye out while kissing him. I wish I'd never joined in with the hunt today, I'm no hunter," she wailed.

Pertwee self-consciously brought his hand up to rub his nose, but they were spared his, no doubt lengthy, objection when Ryouga chimed in.

"It is true, Shampoo followed Ranma all the way to Nerima. That is two whole continents away. Not that Ranma ever tries to stop her fawning over him," Ryouga harrumphed. "That playboy is always letting her crawl over him while he fools around on Akane." Ryouga's eyes grew misty and distant, "Oh my lovely Akane, what are you doing now, I wish I knew…"

In Nerima, Japan, which no matter how lost Ryouga got was definitely not two whole continents away, Akane Tendo watched as a currently female Ranma, who was also currently going by her pseudonym of Ranko, was taking careful and precise aim in the impromptu archery contest in the dojo's backyard. The German archer-boy that Nodoka had invited over, and unwittingly accidentally affianced to the girl who was secretly her son, was up considerably on points. Ranma would need a precise bullseye to win.

The match was particularly high stakes because, in an effort to get out of this new attachment, Ranma had rashly said that if the German boy wanted to be a fiancé he had to beat her at his own game. A game he turned to be Olympic level good at. Now she was trapped by her own over confidence and honour, and she'd have to not only hit the bullseye, but split the German's own arrow which was already planted dead centre of it, to do so. Still, if there was one thing that Ranma had in spades, it was confidence. She nocked her arrow drew back her arm, took careful and precise aim, and let lo…

From the sidelines, Akane gave a mighty sneeze.

…ose. That millisecond's distraction jolted Ranma's aim by a mere half a hair's breadth, but it was enough to send the arrow sliding down the side of the German boy's own arrow, peeling a sliver off it as it did so, instead of down the middle. A narrow but clear loss.

Ranma felt a flash of anger, followed the irritated thought that now she'd have to engineer a way to get the German to allow her a rematch. That impulse was quickly chased out her mind by the realisation she had just picked up a new marriage contract in full view of Akane, and that meant… Ranma quickly shifted her weight to the balls of her feet.

"Ranm-KO," Akane roared, just catching herself before she blew Ranma's cover! "How dare you play around with boys!" She leapt up from her seat, pulling her ki hammer out and jealously charged at Ranma, intent on punishing her for the loss and new engagement.

"Oh, dear," said Nodoka as she watched what she had been convinced was the two Tendo cousins run around the yard, Ranko trying to dodge Akane's wild blows, and leant over to the two older Tendo sisters. "Do you think Akane is jealous of Ranko, do you think she was sweet on young Wilhelm herself", she asked, causing both Nabiki and Kasumi to visibly sweatdrop. "It just wouldn't be proper for her, engaged to my manly son as she is." In the distance Ranma gave a high-pitched squeal as one of Akane's swipes finally connected.

"Auntie Saotome," Nabiki said, "I would bet real money that Akane and Ranma are closer than ever right now. But if you are worried, then for a small fee…"

Back at the Amazon village, with Pertwee having somehow finally found a bottle of smelling salts in his pockets, Ryouga was snapped back to reality from his Akane besmitten daydream.

"Gah," Ryouga cried, as he rejoined reality. "That smelled foul!"

"That's the point, laughing boy," said Pertwee sharply in reply. "Now we got more important problems than your happy dreams."

Ryouga bristled at the implication, with Rainbow sniggering at it and Murray just rolling his eyes. Pertwee ploughed ahead before Ryouga could get a word in, so he settled for just crossing his arms grumpily.

"Specifically," said Pertwee, "getting old Chiefy here out the jam he got in by getting you out of the jam caused by the jam you got us into in the first place."

"That is a lot of jam," Rainbow cut in as Ryouga slumped to the sofa at the reminder he was technically indebted to Pertwee, "I bet it is even enough for a wholesale rebate licence."

Pertwee narrowed his eyes at her as she said that. "And you'd know about licences and rebates would you?" His voice half accusatory, half as slippery as an eel.

"I told you, I'm the tribe's tax accountant. And what I lack as a hunter of animals, I make up for as a finder of loopholes and allowances." Rainbow puffed her chest out and squared her shoulders in pride as she took a step towards the chief to better stare him in the eye.

"Are you now," Pertwee's voice had all but dropped the accusatory tone and given over to guileful scheming, "and," he continued as he took a step towards Rainbow in turn, gazing down at her along his craggy and beaky nose, "I notice your English has suddenly took an upturn too. No more tutus and the like?"

Murray gave a little dejected sigh, then sat back down on the sofa beside Ryouga, whose face was picture of concentration as he worked something out on his fingers. Somehow, Murray thought, he had an awful feeling he knew where Pertwee and Rainbow's conversation was about to end up.

"I could hardly work out all the international investments if I didn't, "Rainbow turned on her heel to put her back to the Chief, "and I notice you," Rainbow said over her shoulder, "seem to have dropped your little dialect too."

Pertwee chose to ignore that little verbal jab, mainly on the grounds that it was true, and instead stepped up behind her. "So if, say, there was a warehouse full of goods in Hong Kong that might be tied up in red tape, you'd…"

"Have the scissors," she cut in, "yes. Depending on goods, of course." Rainbow cast an inviting glance over her shoulder and, lifting her arm, and waggling her fingers in the universally gesture of gimme more".

"Well," said Pertwee leaning in closer…

Whilst Pertwee and Rainbow continued their discussion, Ryouga appeared to reach the end of his own train of thought. "Yes," he declared as he shot to his feet whilst also pounding his fist into his palm, "I know how to get us out of here! It's complicated, but it could work. If Rainbow stands next to the door with a vase, then Pertwee can fake a heart attack, and when Boulder runs into check on him, Rainbow can drop the vase on her head and Murray and I can tackle her while she is distracted. I'll got high, and you," he turned to Cmdr. Murray, "and you can go low…". Ryouga's voice trailed off as he noticed Murray's bored expression. "I'd have thought you'd be more enthusiastic," he said judgmentally.

"Mister Hibiki," Murray said, as he pushed his hat back on his head, "your enthusiasm and brilliant tactical planning is much appreciated, I just don't think it is going to be needed." He gestured wearily towards the other pair, "I think we're about to be party to a merger."

On the other side of the room Pertwee and Rainbow were talking quickly, back and forth over each other, about numbers and tariffs, and logistics, and about a great many things indeed, none of them strictly naval; although if Povey had been present then he might have recognised some items from naval stores in amongst the financial jargon. Ryouga and Murray watched, in slightly stunned bewilderment, as Pertwee whipped a pocket abacus out of seemingly nowhere and Rainbow did likewise with a very expensive looking pocket calculator, fingers flew as both of them rattled beads or jabbed at buttons, both of them occasionally flipping back and forth over each other's device.

Eventually Murray could take it no more and gave a deep "harrumph" to attract their attention. "I do hope I'm not interrupting you," he said, "if you'd like then I'm sure I can ask if Mister Hibiki and I can have a separate room."

To both Murray and Ryouga's surprise, Pertwee and Rainbow both flushed in embarrassment and jerked a few inches apart. Calculator and abacus both went back into whatever hidden pocket they sprung from, and the pair shuffled their feet guiltily.

"Would either of you care to hear Mister Hibiki's wonderful plan to break out," Cmdr Murray said, gesturing to Ryouga.

Before he could continue, Ryouga's volcanic temper cut back in at the sarcastic stress Murray had placed on the word "wonderful", and he grabbed the front of Murray's shirt and half hauled him off the ground, leaning backwards more than a little as Murray was considerably taller than Ryouga was. "What do you mean by that, are you saying my plan won't work?" Ryouga practically snarled in Murray's face as he hefted him in the air, while Rainbow took a half step towards them and Pertwee started mentally measuring the distance to the back of the sofa.

"I wouldn't dream of it, young man," Murray said remarkably calmly and dryly for a man in his position. "I just do not think it will be necessary," Murray gestured towards the increasing friendly couple on the other side of the room.

Ryouga harrumphed and dumped him onto the floor. "Just so you know, I could have beaten her."

"I don't doubt you," Murray said as he clambered back to his feet, knocking the dust off his uniform as he did so. "Well, Chief?", he asked.

"Er, yeah, meself and Miss Rainbow have decided to have a marriage of convenience as you might say." Pertwee put his arm around the shorter Chinese woman proudly, earning him a sideeyed frown from her. Still though, Rainbow made no effort to remove it.

"Corporate convenience, if you ask me," Murray said while rolling his eyes.

"Well, whatever is convenient for you. Sir," Pertwee shot back. "But if preferential trading status, spousal tariff removal, interest free investment loans and grants, and reciprocal tax incentives, are inconvenient then I'll marry inconveniently then. Ooh, and Married persons quarters when we put back to port too, with direct access to the gates and no need to apply for leave and shore passes too." Pertwee removed his arm from around Rainbow's shoulder as he rubbed his hands together covetously.

"Yes," said Rainbow, "it is going to be a very profitable partnership. The only downside is giving the tribe their cut. Then again," she nudged the Chief gently in the ribs, "if we are on the otherside of the planet, and in another currency, who is to say how that might be calculated." They both shared a cackle at that.

"I'm sure we'll make it up somehow. 'Ere, commander Murray, sir, would you like to be in the groundfloor of a new international enter-me-prise? Reasonable returns for a tiny upfront, non-refundable, fee?"

"No, Chief, I wouldn't," Murray said with an impatient note of warning in his voice, "although I would certainly be open to reconsidering your contributions to the ship's comfort fund."

"Erk, forget I said anything," Pertwee said as he jerked back. "How about the young sir, though?" He smiled at Ryouga, "bound to have a few uncashed travellers cheques, looking for a quick turnabout in returns, right my young fellow?"

Ryouga shook his head in disbelief as he stared into what seemed to be a very familiar smile on the Chief's craggy white face. "Tell me, Pertwee," Ryouga said in a slow and careful voice. "Have you ever been to Japan?"

"Not that it is any of your business young man, but 'as it happens, h'yes I 'as. Although not lately, so if you are thinking I owe you money you can forget it. It was nigh on eighteen years ago, when I was a bright rising star assigned to her Majesty's Naval Diplomatic corps at the Embassy in Tokyo." As Pertwee began waxing lyrical in tales of his youth, Rainbow rolled her eyes and slumped down onto the sofa.

"Yes," Pertwee continued, "Young Leading Seaman Pertwee had a bright future in h'international diplomacy ahead of him, if I 'and't been brung low, low I tell you,…"

"Turn it up Chief," Murray muttered sarcastically.

Pertwee cleared his throat at the interruption of his narrative flow, but started again, this time more brusquely with a touch less drama in his voice: "Anyway, I 'ad to transfer out when there some irregularities with the paperwork for the embassy's silverware being sent out for cleaning."

"Now why does that seem familiar, Chief? Murray said, quirking an eyebrow at him. Murray was quite proud of that eyebrow quirk, he'd been practicing it in front of the mirror for the last month just for this occasion.

"Can't say, sir," Pertwee replied, "is there something with your face sir? You don't half have the most peculiar expression."

"You look like you are having a stroke," Ryouga said, and grabbed Murray's face, "can you feel my fingers, do you smell toast? Should I fetch Elder Cologne?"

"Better not," said Rainbow from the sofa, "tribe's healthcare is too-too primitive, wait until you get back to your NHS to have one. It'll be cheaper if nothing else."

"Oh get off," Murray snapped, slapping Ryouga's hands away. "Chief, get on with your story."

"Er yessir, right away sir. Where was I?

"Financial irregularities," said Rainbow.

"Oh, right. Well, that was pretty much it. They could find the receipts for the silverware nor the name of the cleaner I'd sent it to, so I decided to leave before the next big party, and it became an issue. It was a shame too, I had just started seeing a nice girl there. Still, I 'ad to give her up to preserve her honour."

Ryouga's expression suggested that he strenuously doubted the Chief knew anything about honour, but Murray spoke before he could.

"Really, Chief, her honour?"

"Well, yessir, plus she already had a kid and her husband was due back from trip with one of his mates, an' he might have been a long haired hippy but he was also a big stroppy bloke an' all."

"And you needed her seat on the plane for the duffelbag with all the silverware in it? Murray said, sarcastically.

"No sir, sold that local… er, I mean I had one seat total. Sir." Pertwee twiddled his fingers nervously at the slip.

While Ryouga was working something out on his own fingers, Murray decided to cut short their detour down memory lane. "Yes, quick save Chief, I'm sure we'll return to that later, but for now we still need to work out how to get out of here."

"I think that will be no problem," Rainbow said as she straightened up and sat forward, "I'm surprised the Elder Cologne hasn't already…"

The door crashed open, and Cologne hopped forward on her cane.

"…come in," Rainbow finished. "Nice timing, Elder," she said flatly.

"Is it," Cologne replied. "What wonderful coincidence."

"And clearly not you been earwigging at the door all along," Pertwee said.

Cologne gave him a thin smile that was half amused, half calculating, and all terrifying. Rainbow hid a giggle behind her hand, both at Pertwee's bold comment and the Elder's amused disapproval. For her part, Cologne just gave a dismissive wave.

"Yes, clearly. Since you have all finished talking about petty theft, you'll be wanting to get on your way and by chance I happen to have some walking packs and some train tickets to Beijing." Three regular travel packs smacked onto the floor, with Ryouga's pack and umbrella causing a distressing cracking sound as it landed on top of them. "And a map, which I strongly suggest you do not let Mister Hibiki there hold."

"Hey, that is unfair," Ryouga said hotly.

Cologne shot him a glare strong enough to not just stop Ryouga stop reflexively cracking his knuckles, but sit back down meekly. Murray raised an eyebrow at the exchange, then gave a thin, satisfied smile.

"Actually," Murray said with a deliberate slowness, "I think making sure that Mister Hibiki is familiar with it is precisely what we should be doing. If I may, ma'am," Murray reached out to take the map off the village elder and then handed it off to Ryouga. "Mister Hibiki, I want you to study that map very closely. Beijing, and the diplomatic embassy is the place we need to go now."

"'Ere. What are you doing," Pertwee spluttered, "'ow in Nelson's glass eye are you trusting our new Navagamational nincompoop with directions when we have travel tickets to somewhere safe!"

"Standfast Chief, I know what I'm doing."

There was a group clearing of throats, along with eyebrow raisings which was practically audible in itself.

"Hey," said Ryouga, "I can follow directions. I got from Sapporo to Nerima on directions, I have you know." He neglected to mention how long it had taken him, or the difficulties in changing yen to tögrög, to rials, and back to yen again.

"Well, I'll leave you boys to it. Rainbow, I know you'll be keeping to the tribe's rules I'm sure. Perhaps you'll drop in on the Nekohanten when you have some spare money." Cologne gave Rainbow a sharp glare, followed by a smile as she shuddered at the implied threat, then hopped out of the hut leaving the door open behind her.

Murray cleared his throat. "Ahem, now, Chief. Standfast and follow orders." Then directing his attention to Ryouga, "Mister Hibiki, I want you to focus on this map, because we are going to need your strength. We need you to do that thing you do…"

"Weird mystic bol…" Pertwee started to say, politically incorrectly, before being cut off by Rainbow, who had a firmer grip on Ryouga's potential gifts.

"Secret martial arts techniques." She finished Pertwee's sentence, to a brief look of satisfied recognition from Ryouga.

"That thing you do," Murray repeated himself, "and pull us all along like you did before. Except," he paused for emphasis, "we need to follow this map. It is our best bet for getting help for Mister Phillips, so put all thought of taking us back to HMS Troutbridge or that damn jungle, out of your mind."

Ryouga look a little hesitant at this instruction as he grabbed his pack off the floor. Sensing that Ryouga might not be fully on board with the plan, Murray gestured frantically at Pertwee to back him up.

"Er, yessir. Young Hibiki needs to focus on Beijing, not Sub Lieutenant Blond Bonce at all." Pertwee mugged suitably.

"Yes, focus, focus like a true martial artist. One who knows that a direct blow is sometimes less effective than a well timed feint. Focus on that map, focus on not focusing on HMS Troubridge. Picture the boat, and picture never going near. Picture Mister Blond…er…Phillips, picture getting him help in Beijing and not striking directly," said Rainbow, who was quicker on the uptake than the Chief was when it came to martial artists and the effectiveness of reverse psychology. Rainbow looked at the astounded expressions on Pertwee and Murray's faces, "What," she said. This not what you need him to hear?

"Er," said Murray without eloquence.

"Wot the Commander means," Pertwee said cautiously, "is that it is HMS Troutbridge," Pertwee overemphasised the T in the name, "and it is a ship not a boat." He paused. "But Mister Blond Phillips is close enough. Pencil moustached twit might be better though," Pertwee muttered under his breath, to which Rainbow giggled a little.

Ryouga, who had by now finished arranging his pack snuggly on his back, was glared at the map as if by sheer concentration he could make it burst into flames. "Beijing it is, Beijing it is."

"And not Troutbridge," Murray said sharply, "I don't want you thinking about sneaking back there. Promise me you are making "not Troutbridge" part of that little mantra too".

"YES," Ryouga near bellowed. "It is the last place we'll go". And with that Ryouga grabbed Murray's cuff, who then grabbed Pertwee, who was in turn hugged tightly by Rainbow; the act of which caused the Chief's face to turn a very funny colour. Thankfully the convention of symbolic nosebleeds was not in effect or the Chief's large craggy hooter may have drowned them all. Ryouga took off at a dead run, with bamboo giving way to limestone cliffs, rivers and streams bounded or hopped on convenient stepping stones, neon cities, the Sydney Opera House, the Sears Towers, Big Ben, a redheaded Japanese girl engaged in some sort of martial arts-pogostick duel, and a mysterious metal gorge through which bizarre shaped aircraft all whizzed, all fairly flew past, before slowingly giving way to large leaved jungles, a tiger being feasted on by a piece of cake, and finally slowing against the foot of a giant, vine covered, cliff.

A giant cliff against which a sentient vine was reclining. Reclining and, somehow, smoking a cigarette. A cliff on which the message "Secret hideout, first on the right" was painted. The vine recoiled in shock at the airburst that signalled the crew's arrival, and surreptitiously tried to stub the cigarette out behind it and look casual.

"Oh dear," said Murray flatly, "we seem to be back on the hunt for Mister Phillips. Oh well."

"Noooooooo!" Screamed Ryouga, falling dramatically to his knees. "Curse this… curse, am I to never fulfil my desires". Ryouga's pounding of the ground in despair left a sizeable dent in the ground and shower of thrown soil.

Pertwee and Rainbow's contribution to the scene was a silent shared glace and synchronised eyeroll as they watched the one man excavator show. The trio waited a few minutes to see if Ryouga would give up on the self recriminating act, but as they were not familiar with the oft displaced martial artist, their patience was most definitely not rewarded. Eventually, as Ryouga's hole now reached over head height, Pertwee gave Murray a nudge.

"Mister Murray, sir, don't you think that you might be wanting to be doing something," he said, "like walking away quickly before he notices," Pertwee finished, muttering under his breath.

"Steady now, Chief." Murray took a step towards the edge on Ryouga's misery pit, dodging the scattered earth and ignoring the cries of "why must I suffer" and the occasional "Damn you, Saotome, this is all your fault", and leant over. "Mister Hibiki, excuse me, but…" This availed him nothing.

"Let me," Rainbow said, "I know how to deal with martial arts idiots". She casually picked up a large stone from the cliff edge, and, lofting it over her head in a display of strength which brought a strange expression to Pertwee's face, flung it down hard into the hole. "Hey, dummy," she shouted, "cut it out." The rock gave a little "bock" sounded as it bounced off the harder surface of Ryouga's skull.

"Ow!" Ryouga jumped vertically out of the hole. "Who did that!?"

Rainbow ignored Ryouga's outraged expression and raised fist. "Me," she said, "and I was performing martial arts fool stopping technique. Come we have to…" Rainbow trailed off, "actually what do we have to do." She turned to face the two naval officers, "What do we need to do," she paused for effect, "husband?" She gave Pertwee an impish expression, and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

While Pertwee flusterdly tugged at his collar, Murray took a cautious half step forward.

"We need to find our comrade, Sub Lieutenant Phillips".

"Blond Fool," Ryouga muttered, still trying to work out what "martial arts fool stopping" technique meant.

"Yeah, well, begging your pardon, Commander Murray, sir," Pertwee began in a more naval appropriate voice, although his face still somewhat red at the feats his newly obtained "wife" was capable of, "but how do we know where he is, anyways?"

Murray opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by what sounded suspiciously like the clearing of a throat; albeit one with definite vegetative undertones. The vine was, in as far as vines were capable of looking such, looking somewhat sheepish as it pointed to a greenery covered section of cliff. It pulled aside some of the vegetation to reveal a stairway carved into the cliff face itself, spiralling its way up through the stone.

"Hah," said Ryouga with a scornful tone. "Looks like there is a way, Pertwee. Or are you too scared to climb some stairs?"

Pertwee, a man to whom shame knew no actual shame, didn't even double take.

"Got that right, young sir, Pertwee is not for climbing no stairway to heaven, Jonsy will be getting back to the ship. Making it all shipshape and ready for a swift exit, sir," he addressed the latter to Commander Murray, "seeing as we'll most likely be needing it. And getting Missus Pertwee safely stowed below."

"With all the tax and customs forms ready to be filled out," Murray said with sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"The path of an accountant is fraught with peril," Rainbow shot back, in a tone of voice entirely too cheerful for Murray's comfort.

"No." Murray let a tone of firm command slip into his voice, something he was occasionally capable of. "We started this harebrained scheme together, more or less, and we will finish it by retrieving Mister Phillips together. That is an order." And with that he strode up the stairs.

Behind him there was much muttering and surly agreement, but agreement nonetheless, and soon the footfalls of all four seekers on the path of adventure were heard on the rock stairs.

The journey upwards, although taxing for the two naval officers, was mostly uneventful; with only an attack by a giant bird of some sort on Ryouga's head. It had seemingly, but unwisely assumed that Ryouga's bandana was a snake of some sort and had attacked to try and pull it off. Unfortunately for it, what it instead got was the umbrella. The bird was now, plucked and field dressed, sitting nicely in the bottom of Rainbow's travel pack; and she assured the rest of them that it would cook up nicely later. Pertwee had asserted that he would be letting Seaman Johnson taste his portion first, however.

Eventually they reached a cave high on the mountainside. Through the vine covered caves they crept, past the rock walls, into a great hall lined with ornaments created out of gathered flotsam, further and further they sneaked along, over slightly water stained deep pile rugs, until eventually they heard voices.

"It will fit, I shall make it fit!" Shrieked a high and haughty female voice.

"No, no, no more. No more." Was the reply in the terrified tones of a certain missing Sub-Lieutenant.

There was a loud echoing crack, and the sound of leather smacking off flesh, and a cry of great pain. From where the quartet was sheltering in a shaded corner, facing an old sea-oak door, Murray's arm whipped out at a speed that impressed even Ryouga to grab the back of Pertwee's collar as the Chief turned to flee.

"Standfast, Chief. I'm not letting you scarper while Phillips is being tortured."

"This is all your fault, I can't believe you are making me do this again," the woman's haughty shriek covered any reply from the Chief. "We will do this one more time."

"I can't, I can't" said Phillips exhaustedly "you can't…"

Murray gritted his teeth. "We've got to go in, Mister Hibiki can you bring down that door?"

"It would be a pleasure." Ryouga cracked his knuckles then darted forward, and plunged his hand into the cave floor, "Bakusai Tenketsu," he screamed. The floor bucked and warped, and then exploded upwards and outwards, removing the door in a hail of shrapnel. Before the dust could settle, the quartet were through the door, Murray dragging Pertwee behind him a little, and into the room.

"On behalf of Her Majesty I command you, " Murray started to say, before trailing off to nothing as he took in the room. Specifically the sight of a woman with green skin and Japanese features, wearing a kimono, and holding a suitcase. The sight of Sub-Lieutenant Phillips holding another suitcase, this one with a broken strap, which had obviously broken under strain, and with its contents laying half across a bed. The sight of a shelf that had contained a row of lava lamps, but now was just dripping its wax over some shards of glass, courtesy a rock fragment.

"Oh, hello sir, Chief," Phillips said brightly. "I say, Greenie, these are the chaps I was telling you about." He addressed the latter part to the green woman.

"Indeed," she said. "The door wasn't locked, you know."

Sensing there was little in the way of actual danger, Pertwee spoke up. "'Ere, Mister Phillips sir, ain't you supposed to be in 'orrible danger? In need of rescue most varliant?"

"Oh hardly," Phillips said, "a hand with the suitcases perhaps. If someone can stop overfilling them, that is. Look at that sir," he held out an arm with a faint red mark on it, "this last one caught me right on the back of the wrist when the strap burst. Oh, and hello, who is this, I don't think we've been introduced." He treated Rainbow, who was leaning on Ryouga and trying to stifle her laughter at the situation.

"Oi," said Pertwee, "you leave Mrs Pertwee alone. Chiefy saw 'er first. Anyway, we ain't been introduced to your friend neither."

"Missus Per… Oh, yes, well, Commander Murray, Chief, Mrs Chief, Mister Hibiki, this is Ms Green. Ms Green, these are the chaps I was telling you about. Well, two chaps I was telling you about, one chap who was trying to have a fight with us, and apparently Mrs Pertwee whose story I don't know."

"Charmed, I'm sure. Well, you can help Leslie here with the suitcases once he finishes packing them. That is if he can pack them properly."

"I keep saying, we can't fit all this in there. Besides, old Troutbridge's guest quarters are only so big."

"Hang on," Murray made an attempt to regain the initiative and stepped between the two. "What is this about guest quarters on Troutbridge?"

"Oh, I said to Ms Green here that we'd give her a lift back to civilisation."

"I need to get home," she said. Ms Green sat on the edge of the bed, sweeping aside some of the contents of the last suitcase to create a space where she could sit. "I got separated from my mother. I was just a simple seedling when someone burst into our greenhouse, I don't remember much, a boy fighting with some sort of bear. I got thrown out the window, and fell into a canal. Then I was washed out to sea and ended up here. I waaaaaaaan't to go hooooooooooome to mommy," she wailed, with her head in her hands.

"A bear?" Asked Ryouga, who had a horrible suspicion as to where this was all going. "What sort of bear? It wasn't," he growled, "a panda was it?"

"I don't know," she said as she tried to wipe teary sap from her eyes. "What is a panda?"

"Black and white bear."

"Yes, black and white exactly."

"And you lived in Japan?"

"Yes, a great big house, full of conservatories and orangeries."

"Do you know what she is talking about?" Murray asked.

Ryouga was busy putting two and two together, and came up with with one conclusion: "Ranma!" He screamed to the heavens, ignoring everyone else, "This really is all your fault!"

It was a little while later, after much explanation, repeated explanations, and a general calming down of Ryouga, that the group retired back to a certain elderly frigate which had been refloated off the rocks it had been resting on, and now bobbed merrily upon the ocean wave. A growing pile of suitcases was mounting on deck, courtesy of a genetically engineered vine. On the bridge, three naval officers convened.

"Strange that you can come halfway around the world to find some people from halfway around the world themselves. Although since one of them is plant who is full grown at six months old, I dare say I'll have to broaden my definition of strange." Murray said.

"Not as strange as The Chief getting hitched, I must say." Phillips was resting, somewhat lackadaisically against the chart table.

"Just leave old Pertwee alone, 'e's 'appy". The Chief snapped back.

"Mmm," Murray murmured, absently, "indeed. Chief, where is Mrs Pertwee anyway?"

"Oh, well now young seaman Johnson's been de-portholed, I had him take her, Ms Green, and Mister Hibiki below. Although where's 'e 'as got to I dunno. I told him to get himself back up here smartish once he was done."

"You," Murray said slowly, "sent old Fatso Johnson off with Mister Hibiki?"

"Yessir, that is what I… Oh."

"Oh indeed, Chief, oh indeed. Well, I'm sure they will all turn up. Eventually, at least. Mister Phillips, you better get us underway."

"Oh right you are sir. Chief, three quarters ahead right, half back port, four points amidship, thirty three rotations, point the bow to star of Orion, and er…forward and left hand down a bit."

"Aye-aye, sir, forward and lefthand down a bit it is sir."

Epilogue.

Some other place, some other when.

Two very angry women were taking it in turns to thwap a Japanese boy around the head with any and every object that came to hand. Looking on was a very nervous, somewhat plump, young man in a British naval rating's uniform. He tore his eyes away from the scene of violence in front of him to gaze upon the multi coloured cliffs and sands of a strange jungle containing plants that twisted around each other, striped like candy canes, which ended in great puffs of lurid shaded fuzz. Overhead strange metal craft, bedecked with a red bat like symbol, zoomed and dove at a woman riding a flying unicorn. One thought preeminent in his mind:

"Old Povey is never going to believe this when I put in my travel expenses claim."

The end.


End file.
